


Strong Women

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, post 2x7, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: What happens after their talk.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to Burying the Hatchet.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8493220

_“We’re going to make peace”_

 It seems like a pattern beginning, though Heather would never be so presumptuous as to assume they were beginning anything at all. There’s a space between them, there deliberately, she’s sure. Things have been—tense today. But then again high alert days in an already high alert work environment can do that people. Plus, Heather does have a temper—so does Leanne. It was one explosion waiting to happen and they both know it.

They sit there, sipping from their Dixie cups and watching the stillness of the OR. Reluctantly, Heather’s nerves have begun to relax—alcohol certainly helps move things along in that department—and her mind has begun to clear. She looks over at Leanne; she’s sat there, slouching slightly, the briefest of smiles on her lips as she contemplates who knows what. She’s fixed the pins holding her hair up it looks like. It’s smoothed out, curls gracefully framing her face. Heather sees her neck, the side that wasn’t cut by that maniacal convict on a bender—she remembers Jesse quickly tending to it and remembers how hard it was to not take a scalpel and slice the guy’s chest clean open right there on the gurney, leave him to bleed out.

Her chair squeaks a little when she gets up and Leanne looks over, watching as Heather walks over to stand in front of her, and then bends over to tilt her chin up and to the side.

“Let me see that.” After inspecting the bandage, satisfied it’s well placed, she says, “Okay. Not a bad job.”

“Jesse would kill you for second guessing him.”

“Jesse was under a lot of pressure, hand could have slipped, gotten a little sloppy, you never know.” Leanne chuckles, she’s still smiling when Heather pulls back and adds, “He could have killed you.”

“Yeah, the thought occurred to me.”

Heather just stands there, watching Leanne watching her, her eyes sharp, focused.  _To tough women indeed_.

Leanne kisses her before she can react; up on her feet she backs her up against the glass, palms one breast with one hand while the other grips Heather’s hip. At the first feel of Leanne’s tongue in her mouth, Heather has two thoughts; one, that being sober this time is very nice, and two, that they are being too cavalier about doing this where they’re doing it. Leanne seems to read her mind because she mumbles something against Heather’s lips and them drags the younger woman into the dark little corner by the gallery entrance.

As soon as Heather gets a chance, she unzips Leanne’s sweater and slips her hands up her tank top, squeezing both breasts as she goes for the uninjured side of her neck, biting at her pulse point briefly and drawing out a hiss from her before she pulls at the older woman’s drawstring and slips her hand down her pants. Somewhere Leanne’s busied herself doing the same and they both gasp simultaneously.

Heather finds Leanne’s clit instantly, circling in tentative circles then faster when Leanne begins to fuck her with two fingers. She isn’t shy about it either, she’s doing the thing she did the first time they did this—she has great memory apparently because she keeps hitting _that_ spot Heather usually has to find herself and she has to force herself to concentrate on the other woman because she can feel herself getting closer. She hears herself whimper before Leanne shushes her.

They kiss again, until heather is finally there and she gasps, grabs the back of Leanne’s sweater while her other hand keeps working the woman’s body into a quiet frenzy, soon Leanne is panting against Heather’s cheek, shaking with her release and instinctively fucking Heather harder into the wall until they’re left one slumped mess against the wall, sated and holding on for leverage for a brief moment before they wordlessly pull themselves together.

It could be awkward and uncomfortable. But they are moving quickly enough to avoid that.

Before they have to make polite small talk, someone’s pager goes off.

Heather’s.

Leanne’s cheeks are pink, her smile when she looks at Heather is a sheepish and so of course she wants to kiss her. So Heather does.

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” she tells her, then turns to leave. She hears her laugh as the door closes behind her and she almost runs into Jesse.

“Oh, hey, Jesse.”

“Hello, Dr. Pinkney. Feeling better?”

“Feeling great!”

He seems suspicious, he definitely picked up on something earlier and he is picking something up now. As Heather keeps walking, she hears Leanne telling him to shut up. She will have to deal with that later but for now, she makes a mental note to ask Leanne for her number later.

 


End file.
